


Where Words Fail

by Alena Wells (chihiroogino1)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 20:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15397182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chihiroogino1/pseuds/Alena%20Wells
Summary: Voldemort is rising, and it seems that no spoken spell or wand waving can eliminate him. Hermione Granger might just hold the solution. The only problem? She doesn't know it yet.  SSxHG.Ever hear the old proverb, "Where Words Fail, Music Speaks"?





	1. Chapter 1

Hello, everyone! I am SO excited to start this story with you... I've been wanting to do a Snamione fic for so long, and now it's finally happening! Expect a slow burner... Like, VERY slow. But bear with me, you're in for a good one!

In a way, me writing as Snape is sort of like a writing exercise for me. He has such a unique personality that I think a lot of authors have a hard time capturing, so I honestly hope I do it justice (when the time comes, no Snape this chapter, sorry).

Please give me reviews! They're what give me the courage and initiative to keep writing, and I take my reviews to heart! If you love something, tell me, and I'll put more of it in the story. If you hate something, tell me, and I won't. If you have suggestions, tell me, and you may very well get what you wish!

***IMPORTANT*** This fic may end up being very musically influenced. I will reference certain songs and pieces that certain characters are playing... If you're interested, I can give you guys the names of the specific pieces I reference and you can listen along. Like, for example, in this chapter, Hermione plays a Schummann piece called Of Foreign Lands and People. Let me know if you guys want to know other songs further along in the story!

Without further review, let the story begin. :)

* * *

 

_"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to remain silent."_

_Victor Hugo_

* * *

 

"Come on, little dove," Her father half admonished while laughing,

"Yes, Papa," A young Hermione Granger giggled, once again settling down on the bench. Hermione treasured these moments more than any others, those she got to spend making music with her father.

Daniel Granger was a master of the piano all throughout his youth, and dreamt of doing it professionally, before he was steered in the direction of dentistry by his peers. He knew what joy it was to bend melodies to his will, to sway emotions with a simple pressing of ivory keys. As a result, his heart nearly stopped with joy and pride the day he found his little Hermy at the Perzina in their living room, poking curiously at the keys.

At 6 years of age, Hermione Granger, too, had developed a love and passion for the art of music, and it was an art that she quickly found that she excelled in. To her young mind, the piano was almost synonymous with the cold winter nights spent in front of the fire, listening to the calming melodies flowing from the fingertips of her father, those hours spent sitting at his side trying to shake herself from the clutches of sleep, lest she miss one note that might be played while she slept.

Now, at age 9, she smiled in contempt playing the F major scale with finesse under her father's proud gaze.

Hermione's mother stood at the door, gazing lovingly at the scene in front of her, a father and daughter bonding over their mutual adoration for music. Her father, noticing her presence, turned to Hermione with a smile asking, "Now, love, what are you going to play for us tonight?"

"Hmm..." Hermione had a wide range of songs that she loved to play for both of her parents; the question always came down to which one to play. Contemplating thoroughly, her eyes flashed as she thought of a song.

She searched through her well-worn music folder until she found the piece that came to her mind.

As her father joined her mother and wrapped a loving arm around her waist, the two parents gazed proudly at their daughter as she began to play her favorite Schummann piece.

* * *

 

Not one year later, Hermione sat at that same bench, tears falling upon the untouched keys. Her mother stood alone at the door frame once more, a sympathetic and mutual welling in her eyes as she said, "Come on, darling, it's time to go." Holding out her hand to take hold of her daughter's, they entered the black car waiting outside of their house.

It was a simple service, for Daniel Granger was a simple man. A handful of his most trusted friends and family were there, all mourning the life of the man with such a large heart, who's heart had been his very undoing.

He had a valve which hadn't been working properly, which in turn caused a heart attack. The attack then led to a coma, one with which Daniel Granger never woke up from. The death was so sudden, so completely unexpected, which somehow made the whole situation all the more tragic.

Hermione continued to play the piano after they had returned from the funeral, but something had changed in her that day.

As any composer or musician could tell you, a happy song could still be played in such a way that the listener could hear the pain that lies beneath. And that is exactly what happened to Hermione's once happy songs. There was a certain hollowness, an emptiness behind the notes that communicated exactly how broken she felt without her even trying.

* * *

 

Hermione had never been well liked by her peers in elementary school. There was always something for the children to tease her over, whether it be her strange name, the poofy hair, her bookworm-ish tendencies or her two buck teeth, there was always  _something_. Her sneaking off to the music room during recesses and lunches certainly didn't help her classmates' opinions of her, either.

The teasing and mocking at school had already become a part of everyday life by the time her father died, but until that point, she had never cared. But now, without her father there to reassure her... she felt hopelessly alone.

Several days after her 11th birthday, one of the children had taken it too far. Hermione had been in a hurry walking down the hall that led to the music room, arms full of sheet music, when a girl several years her senior purposely rammed into her shoulder as she walked past. Her sheet music went flying, and Hermione instantly went to the floor to try and regain some order amongst the stray papers.

But her bully wasn't finished. The older girl turned around to her, and said with a scowl, "Just what makes you think you're so much better than everyone else, Granger?"

Hermione did as she was always told to do and ignored her, until she spoke once more. "You think you're so special, playing your music as if you had any real talent..." Hermione's blood began to boil, and the redness of her cheeks gave her away to her bully.

"Ooh? Finally got a rise out of you, eh?" The other girl paused, a malicious smirk coming to her features. "What are you going to do, tell your precious  _daddy_  on me?"

Something that had been building inside Hermione for years finally snapped. Her instincts took control, and the other girl was sent flying back into the wall behind her with a wave of energy that she didn't know she possessed. Both girls stood there in shock for several moments before the bully shook her head frantically and ran off, shouting, "You're such a freak!" Hermione was mortified.

 _Did I... Did I do that?_ She thought.  _That's impossible..._

But the impossible became possible the very next day, when Albus Dumbledore had rung the doorbell at 32a North Street and began to ask questions.

"Have you ever had things you couldn't explain happen around you? Strange occurrences, things that normal people cannot replicate?" Hermione nodded slowly, and her mother placed a warm hand on her knee before addressing the older man. "Another girl was teasing her just yesterday, and Hermione tells me that she flew backwards like a wind came in... The school tried to tell me it was a fist fight, but I  _know_ Hermione would have never done such a thing. She would never hurt a fly." Albus took this information in, choosing his next words very carefully before turning to and addressing Hermione.

"I run a school. A school for very special children like you, Hermione, who possess talents that very few children possess." Mrs. Granger looked skeptical. "What special talents are you referring to, Mr. Dumbledore?

"Magic."


	2. Chapter 2

Hello everyone! I know this chapter is a bit short, but don't worry, this is only the build up to the much larger chapters.  Please let me know what you think, I love critiques! Translation. **PLEASE. REVIEW.**

And with that, on to the chapter! Thank you everyone!

\----------------------------

The room had made itself known to her within her first week of term at Hogwarts, and she was certainly flabbergasted when it did. Hermione had made a habit of always carrying around her own personal copy of the official Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Map, since living in such a huge castle tended to get rather daunting and confusing. But, for whatever reason, this room didn't appear on her copy. When her own curiosity got the better of her, she looked around her to make sure she was alone before opening the door with a low _creak._

Her breath caught in her throat when what appeared to be a decently sized music room met her eyes. To the left of the room were several book cases, which upon closer examination held all the music books that she could ever dream of. Even music books that had been her favorites as a child could be found on it's shelves, along with a wide assortment of other varieties. She could also recognize the names of some popular wizard composers.

Looking towards the center of the room, a small table stood in it's center with what appeared to be a figurine of a piano. It was quite small, and could easily have fit into one of the dollhouses that Hermione occasionally played with as a small child. Confusion struck her as she tried to piece together her surroundings. Hermione recalled the times over the summer when she would read her textbooks ahead of time, attempting to get a headstart on her curriculum, when a certain spell stuck out in her brain.

She hadn't tried it before, and her professors had specifically warned her about the dangers of testing spells so early and with so little magic experience, but she couldn't let the opportunity pass her up. Recalling the proper wand movements that she had read in her text, a faintly-whispered  _Engorgio_  immediately had the desired effect. Her suspicion had been correct, the figurine had in fact been a real piano.

Butterflies fluttered in her belly as she sat at the provided bench and examined the instrument. She was almost afraid to touch it, should it shrink up to it's previous size again. Hesitantly, she pressed a single key and faintly smiled at the rich tone that reverberated from the instrument.

"Hello," She whispered. "My name is Hermione Granger. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Her father, at the very beginning of her piano instruction, instilled in her the idea that one of the most important lessons in learning to play was to always respect your instrument. Her young mind had taken this instruction in a different way than was intended, and immediately toddled to the piano, addressing it in her most polite voice, "H-hi, Mr. Piano. My name is Hermione. I'd like to play you, if you don't mind." Mr. Granger was in stitches at this, and a new habit of introducing herself to instruments was formed.

Hermione was pulled out of her memory as she heard the telltale sounds of feet passing the door, students on their way to their respective classes. Lunch period must have just ended. She had Herbology next, and knew she would have to hurry if she was to get to the greenhouses in time. Once Hermione cast the proper spell for shrinking the piano, she placed the miniaturized instrument into her bookbag.

Exiting the room with a barely concealed smile, Hermione knew that she had perhaps found her new safe haven. Hurrying down the corridor, she didn't even notice that the door she had exited from had vanished entirely.

\-------------------------------

After researching for hours in the library for anything about this mysterious music room that no one seemed to have any knowledge on, she came across a description that might very well have been what she was looking for.

_"The Room of Requirement - This room has been marveled at for centuries, for no one is entirely certain how it came to be, who it was built by, or how to access it intentionally. It is thought to have some degree of sentience, for it only appears to those that have a desperate need. This room transforms itself into whatever the witch or wizard needs it to be at that moment in time."_

Continuing to read it's history, and instances where this room has appeared for others, Hermione was certain that this was the room that she had come across. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

_What about this 'desperate need' that's mentioned?_

The discovery came to her late that night as she tried to fall asleep. She remembered her thoughts as she exited the room, her utter joy at finding what she described as a "safe haven". Somehow, that room had known that that was exactly what she had needed... that very idea boggled her.

She soon fell asleep while contemplating when next she'd have the time to revisit the room.

\---------------------------

Hermione's hands instinctively tightened around her bookbag as she scurried down the corridor that would lead to her destination. It had been several months since the beginning of her first year at Hogwarts, and the pressures of being friends with The Boy Who Lived, living so far away from her mother and managing all of her studies were finally beginning to have an impact on her. She knew that there was only one place she could go to alleviate her stress.

_Ah! Here it is. The Room of Requirement._

Closing the door behind her with a gentle thud, Hermione reached into her bag and rustled until she found what she was looking for. It was only an inch or two in size, so it was quite easy to miss. Casting a silent enlargement spell, the object quickly grew until it was the size of a real instrument. Hermione rest her fingers reverently over the keys, testing out a few notes.

"I'm sorry," She whispered. "It's been too long."

Releasing a sigh that she hadn't known she'd been holding, she began to play.

____________________

**PLEASE COMMENT!**


	3. Chapter 3

**PLEASE READ:** Guys, I write this purely for feedback and reviews! Please don't let me down! And with that, I hope you like this chapter! On with the story!

___________

"Mr. Longbottom," Professor McGonnagall reprimanded, "Hold your wand firmly! Sloppy wand movements will  _not_  produce the required result."

Minerva McGonnagall loved nothing more than teaching the first years. As they had no previous experience, they were the hardest, but also the most rewarding to instruct in Transfiguration. The looks of wonder on their faces when they performed their first transformation were memories that she would always treasure.

Slowly taking a turn about the room, she observed the work of her young charges. Today was their first try at their major project for the semester, transfiguring a mouse into a goblet. It was proving to be quite the challenge for some, indeed.

"Ugh!" Ronald Weasley growled as he nearly slammed his wand into the desktop. "Why isn't it working?!"

Professor McGonnagall's lips turned slightly at the corners, barely giving away her amusement. Walking to his table, she was just about to respond to his rhetorical question, when another voice beat her to it.

"Ron, you're trying to force it too much. Magic is natural, you have to let it flow out of you."

McGonnagall turned her head to the voice, Ronald Weasley's partner for the day, Hermione Granger. In the few months of being a student at Hogwarts, she was already proving to have the talent for learning magic that very few second and third years have achieved. She was always the student who wasn't afraid to ask questions, regardless of the continuous stares she received every time she raised her hand. Schooling wasn't a chore for her, but a privilege. That kind of reverence for instruction warmed the professor's heart.

"Well said, Ms. Granger." Professor McGonnagall said, giving an affirmative nod whilst returning to her perusal of the classroom. "Five points to Gryffindor."

Her lips curling into a faint smile, Hermione returned to her own mouse.

"Let it flow out of you? What kind of poetic nonsense is that?" Her red-faced parter murmured. Hermione rolled her eyes before continuing to work.

By the end of the week, Hermione's mouse had already been successfully transfigured, where the majority of her peers had only succeeded in changing theirs' fur colors.

* * *

 

Severus Snape sat at his desk, tapping his fingers upon the dark wood while his other hand held a quill dipped in red ink. His eyes focused on the paper he was currently grading, and he could hardly believe what he had just read.

 _Porcupine quills in Draught of the Living Death? Has she paid attention in_ any _of my classes?_

Scrawling a large 'P' in the upper right corner of Lisa Cullen's essay, he huffed a disapproving sigh as he set the graded paper in a completed stack. The second period bell had just rung, notifying him that first year students would be arriving at his classroom at any moment. The first to arrive, being, of course...

 _Granger._ The door to his classroom was pushed open, and the scrawny girl with bushy hair hurried to her seat at the front of his class. She was always the first to enter his classroom, and there had yet to be an exception to this pattern.  _Does this girl even_ have _friends?_

"Good afternoon, Professor," Hermione said with her smile as she collected her potion materials from her bag. She surely was a strange one. Where the rest of his students would cower and rarely dare to utter a word in his classroom, Hermione Granger showed no signs of fear whatsoever as she gave her customary greeting. He wasn't entirely sure he liked it.

"Is it really, Miss Granger?" He drawled. Hermione, knowing better to respond, simply opened her potions text and began to read.

As several minutes passed, more and more students entered the classroom, and Professor Snape began his usual speech.

"Today, you will all brew for me an effective Wideye Potion. If you will look at the board, you will find the appropriate instructions." With this, his eyes pointed to the desk beside Hermione, the one where Ron and Harry sat. Opening his mouth once more, Professor Snape addressed only them. "And there will be no rough housing in this classroom, is that perfectly understood?"

Receiving nods from around the room, Snape began to observe the class through his penetrating gaze.

Hermione teamed up with Susan Bones, and with both of them being fairly competent Potions students, had no problems with producing an acceptable batch of the potion with a large portion of their time left over. After the two girls had placed their sample on his desk for observation, they returned to their desk. Miss Granger, unsurprisingly, pulled out a book to read until the end of class.

Only, something about this book seemed strange to his well-trained eye. It wasn't the usual hardcover textbook or research material that he had become accustomed to seeing in the girl's hands. This book was a bit thin, and Snape could barely make out the title from across the room after narrowing his eyes.

_'Piano Masterworks: Intermediate Levels'?_

Schooling his expression, his face left no trace of the confusion he felt.  _Granger plays?_

For whatever reason, this surprised him. This year had been in session now for several months, and he had assumed that he knew all that there was to be known about his severely lacking first years. The thought of this irritating, know-it-all bookworm being involved in the arts had never occurred to him.

He secretly pondered whether she was any good.

It had been many years since Severus Snape had last seen, or heard the playing of a piano.

_Don't even think about it._

Saving him from his thoughts, the period bell let rang it's shrill cry, dismissing the children for lunch. He returned to grading the 4th years' essays.

* * *

 

 

**Now before you all go back to the real world and do whatever it is you do, please don't forget to leave me a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Can you do me a favor and comment and let me know you're still reading? I would greatly appreciate that. And of course, let me know how you like what's happening here! Things get a lil crazy in this chapter!**

**ALSO, HEADS UP. IMPORTANT.**  The early parts of this story are going to be going through the main points in the books, and then derailing majorly from canon once we get around Deathly-Hallows-ish. Is that alright? It better be, cuz I'm not changing it! 

***EDIT - I'M AN IDIOT! WOOHOO! Some of you were commenting about me including professor lockhart in this chapter. I could lie and say it was intentional, but it really wasn't... I was just a bit of a dummy and completely let that fact slip my mind that he doesn't show up until later books. I edited that part out, and made his line Quirrell's, which was rather easy. THANK YOU GUYS!

**COMMENT, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, COMMENT.**

**_______________**

**Hermione POV**

 

I'm so glad that I have now devoted a portion of my dinner period to head to the Room of Requirement. It's only sheer luck that every time I wish to play, the room is always waiting for me.

Tonight, however, Professor Quirrell had burst through the doors during dinner, shouting of a troll in the dungeon. Before I could even put my fork down, Ron and Harry were on their feet, running after for a "sneak peak." I consider myself at least  _slightly_ more wise than that, and opted out. Instead, why not go to the Room a bit early?

 _Like every other night, only a little bit ahead of schedule,_  I pondered. Entering the warm confines of the room, I enlarged the piano, yet again, and went to choose a book of sheet music in the shelves surrounding me.

I had begun to really hone in on the feelings the room invoked in me... and had finally understood what the text had said about this room being sentient. Every time I entered the seclusion of the Room of Requirement, there was an unspoken warmth that always awaited me. Like a welcome, of sorts.

Now, this sentience seemed to be picking up in severity, as a music book seemed to "fall" from the shelf, immediately into my line of sight. I walked over, maybe just a  _bit_ curious.

Reading the words upon it's cover, I couldn't help the smile that graced my lips. It was a complete works of one of my favorite composers, which made me all the more fascinated at the Room's knowledge of it being so.

"If I must," I sighed sarcastically, rolling my eyes despite how excited I am. I knew immediately which piece to play.

Sinking into the piano bench provided, I arranged the sheets in their proper order. Resting my fingertips among the cool, smooth keys, I began to play.

_______________________

Snape POV, Girl's Restroom

_______________________

Imagine my great irritation at hearing there was now a 20 something foot beast, rampaging through the castle.

Now, imagine my ADDITIONAL aggravation at being unable to catch up with misters Weasley and Potter, who just  _had_ to "see what's up". _Idiots, the lot of them._

It did, however, strike me as odd that the female component of their trio was nowhere in sight. Good for her.  _At least she doesn't seem to have a death wish, quite yet._

Upon dashing to what we believed to be the location of the Troll, ('believed' may not be the right word. The stomping was a dead givaway) Minerva and Albus were at my side immediately, and stood attentive as I pushed open the (now shattered) wooden door. The site that met my eyes made my skin crawl.

Harry Potter somehow managed to sit upon the Troll's neck, and within seconds of entering the room, I couldn't help noting that the boy's wand was now inches deep in the beast's nostril.  _Delightful._

"Mr. Potter, what on earth are you doing?!" Minerva bellowed at my side. The troll wasn't looking necessarily happy at his current circumstance.

"Trying to take him down!" He hollered from his prized seat atop the monster. Mr. Weasley was on the floor, cowering in fear. I sympathized more with Weasley.

"Mr. Weasley, please return to your dorm immediately," I demanded, helping the boy to his feet. He nodded frantically, and immediately bolted to the door. I can't say I blamed him.

Looking to my left, I noticed that Professor Quirrell had finally acquired the amount of gall required to show up. Realizing that the Troll was honestly not much of a threat, the room had already been trashed, and the beast was clearly only concerned with getting the runt off of his back, I took the chance that had now been provided.

"Well, Professor Quirrell What's your plan of attack?" I began, as Minerva turned to me, her eyes widened at what had just come out of my mouth. I shrugged.  _Don't deny a man his fun_ , I wanted to say.

Quirrell didn't seem to notice this interaction, but was clearly at a loss as to what to do, judging by his gobsmacked expression. "Yes, that's right...erm... I've got just the thing!" He exclaimed. "We c-could use a stupefy, which would effectively--"

"Cause the troll to collapse, and result in Potter being fatally crushed? Great plan," I quip, and Lockhart quiets down. Was me asking for his opinion necessary? Not really. Am I still glad I got to further diminish his ego, and reduce him to a quivering mess? Absolutely. "Alright, here's the plan. Minerva, I'd like you to get the troll to turn around somehow, with a distraction, or however you choose. When his back is fully exposed, I'll use an incarcerous on Potter, and a mobili--"

I paused. Chancing a glance at the Troll in front of me, his eyes were incredibly glossy. His roaring had ceased, and he was now standing stock-still. His eyes began to close.

Not quite understanding what was happening, I didn't have to, in order to know that I must act quickly. "He's going to fall!" I bark at Minerva, who immediately springs into action, transfiguring the debris on the floor to a mattress, as I cast the incarcerous and mobilicorpus on a panicked Potter.

The plan was working. As the troll began to sway on his feet, I spread my arms out behind me, gesturing that the rest of the gathered staff back away as much as possible. With a deafening  _thud,_ the troll successfully thuds onto the provided mattress. Potter, still floating in the air, looks mortified.

Pointing my wand at him, I gently guide him about 2 feet from the floor before my spell ' _accidentally'_ halts, causing the boy to fall hard on his arse. Whoops.

Canceling the incarcerous on him, I stalk over to where he's still lying on the floor, rubbing his backside. "You will serve one weeks detention with Filch, starting tomorrow. What you did was incredibly dangerous and foolish, and you're lucky you're not being expelled."

I see him begin to shake, and know I've done my job. "Get to your dorm immediately," I finish, before Potter scurries away. Minerva walks over to me, and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Are you sure you weren't too harsh on him, Severus?" I turn around and sport my best nonplussed expression.

"I suspect that Dumbledore will revoke the detention anyway, for the sake of "bravery" or some other foolish nonsense, but that doesn't mean I can't intimidate the boy," I explain. Minerva, rather than fighting back at the underlying insult, offers a smirk, nodding her head.  _Head of Gryffindor, my arse. She would have made a fine snake._

Dumbledore speaks, addressing the entirety of the gathered staff. "Although there is much repair to be done on this floor and many others, it can wait until tomorrow. Our priority is our students. As such, I would like the Heads of Houses to return to their respective common rooms, and assure the students that the threat has been neutralized, and ask that they all get some rest." Receiving nods from the majority of the staff, they begin to disperse. Leaving Dumbledore and I.

There is a brief pause before I say what's been on both of our minds since the Troll's collapse. "When are we going to address what just happened?"

Dumbledore nods solemnly, and begins to think something over. The additional pause in conversation gives me the opportunity to take in my surroundings.

Faint tones, definitely from a piano, drift into my ears. I close my eyes briefly.  _Definitely a good distance away, but probably on this floor._

_Franz Liszt's Ständchen._

The quality of the music is superb. Correct pausing, great use of dynamics. It's rather haunting, actually.

Looking up, I happen tocsee Dumbledore, actually asleep, on his feet. 

That's when the puzzle pieces began to click, and I knew what had happened with the Troll. I'm surprised I didn't have the same effect happen to me... but when taking into account my almost-constant, imprenetrable Occlumency shields, it makes sense.

The biggest realization of this whole ordeal finally dawns on me. My eyes flash open in an instant, and I am shaking Dumbledore awake. When he opens his eyes, I am careful to immediately cover his ears with my hands. Dumbledore has equally strong, if not more so, Occlumency shields as I do, but, until he is aware of what's happening, I can't risk him hearing any of the music. It is hard at first, but eventually I am able to reach where I need to go in his head, once Dumbledore realizes and approves of what I'm about to do.

 _"This is difficult to explain, but I know why that troll collapsed. I need to go see something. Trust me when I say I will explain this all to you, when I am able. Keep your hands covering your ears, Albus!"_ I tell his mind all of this, and he nods in confirmation.

He reaches into my mind, and I let him, only for this.  _"I will hold you to that, Severus. Goodnight."_ He walks through the door in the direction of his office, his wrinkly hands firmly clasped over his ears.

I don't have a minute to lose, I  _must_ find who ever is playing this song, and it's almost over. Enhancing my shields, I remove my hands from my own ears before sprinting in the direction of wherever the sound is coming from.

I stop in front of a door, one that I immediately recognize as the Room of Requirement.  _Long time, no see,_  I inwardly grumble. I am immediately concerned that the door will not open for me, but for whatever reason, the room is aware that this is a necessity, and a doorknob appears.

Grabbing it, I turn it, and enter the room. The song immediately comes to a halt. At first, I cannot see the performer behind the large piano, but I instantly advance closer.

My mind is whirling when I recognize the bushy ball of frizz in front of me.

__________________

Hermione POV

__________________

"Granger!" I hear my name called, in the all-too-familiar voice of my gruff, stern-faced Potions professor, Professor Snape.

Getting over the initial shock and irritation at having been interrupted in one of my favorite songs, I meekly look up and meet his eyes. "Y-yes, sir?"

"You are here entirely past curfew. Come with me, I will escort you back to your dormitory." Looking into his eyes, I can see that he is hiding something. And the fact that he's not shouting at me right now is... honestly disconcerting.

I stand, collect the sheet music, place it back into the proper book, and return it to the shelf. "Yes, sir." I respond, and follow behind his brusque, quickened pace.

The walk back to the common room is a quiet one. I hear nothing but the click-clack of Professor Snape's dragonhide boots, and the soft padding of my own uniform shoes. We come to a halt, but I am lost in though to the point where I almost bump into Professor Snape's back, not realizing that we had reached our destination.

Before he had the chance to walk away, I gained a bit of courage and asked the question pressing on my mind. "S-sir... where is the troll Professor Quirrell mentioned?" He whirled around to face me, he was clearly on-guard.

"That is none of your concern, Ms. Granger. Return to your dormitory at once." He seemed to realize that this only added to my fear, and quickly added, "You are safe, I assure you."

Realizing this was as good of a response as I was going to get, I murmur a quick "Goodnight, Professor," before giving the Fat Lady the password, and returning to my dormitory.

By now, Lavender and Parvati have already fallen asleep, and I am relieved. Having changed out of my uniform, I slide between the sheets of my bed, and finally fall asleep, thoughts of Professor Snape's odd behavior filling my mind.

________________________

Snape POV

________________________

I didn't know what came over him, when me entered the Room of Requirement. 

The bombardment of so much energy, so much  _magic,_ within those four walls, was the likes of which I haven't seen in a  _long_  time.

I had gone in there with the intent to confront Ms. Granger over the discovery I had come across after the collapse of the troll, but found that suddenly, I could not.  _Maybe she already knows?_

_But then again, how could she?_

Our school's curriculum most certainly does not cover that branch of magic. Doesn't even mention it, in fact. Most wizards live their entire lives without encountering even a hint of it.

 _I must tell Albus._ Definitely. It's too important not to. But how would he react? Would he ostracize her, like so many others have done to those like her, in the past?

Possibly.

After at least an hour of contemplating what exactly the implications of this new development were, and the pros and cons of alerting Albus and even Ms. Granger herself... I came to a decision.

 _Albus cannot find out._  Not yet, anyway. And Ms. Granger... well... maybe I would have to have a discussion with her about this.

Affirmed that this was as good of a plan as he was going to get at this hour of the evening, he turned off the light in his quarters, and at last settled into bed. Thoughts of the song Ms. Granger was playing, and the familiar quality of the magic within that room, that he hadn't felt in  _years,_ filled his troubled thoughts, but only served to confirm the truth further. 

Hermione Granger somehow possesses the Blessings of the Virtuoso. 

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 **BLESSINGS OF THE VIRTUOSO?**  Ooooh, what is that??? **Comment**  below what you guys think. PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, **COMMENT.**


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